Echo sits atop Castle's observation tower, perched on its sloping roof where the entire town comes into view.
She was carried by the lightning bolt, and when the sun sets, the little girl will come back to drop her off. By now, the lightning should already be on its way to the Long Song Fortress.
The weather today is splendid, with sunlight bathing the earth in radiant brightness. In the distance, the river flows like a luminous silk ribbon, gently sweeping westward and dividing the land, where green leaves and snow are interwoven, into two distinct halves. Lying under the sun, she feels enveloped in a warm, soft embrace, unlike the scorching heat of the southernmost regions where intense sunlight can easily burn the skin.
The winds were strikingly different, she mused. The mainland kingdom's winds were a kaleidoscope of flavors: the salty sea breeze from Bishui Harbor, the damp monsoons that alternated between scorching and chilly in the capital, the bone-chilling northern winds from the Jiejing Mountains, and now the earthy breeze carrying the scent of soil in the small town. Yet all these winds were pure and singular. In Iron Sand City, however, the weather was either unbearably hot and windless or engulfed in relentless storms. The wind was tangible—its roaring currents carried pebbles and gravel like a black behemoth charging through the air. At such times, one had to seek shelter indoors or any place that could shield them from the wind. To stand exposed to it meant certain death.
Echo let out a soft sigh. Reflecting now, she had been away from Iron Sand City for nearly four years. The Aoshan Clan had suffered a crushing defeat in the power struggle. Her father surrendered but was ultimately killed by the enemy. Having witnessed this tragedy firsthand, she was about to charge forward and perish with the enemy when a sudden attack from behind caught her off guard.
I wonder how many people in the clan are still alive after four years.
Before being sold into slavery at Bishui Port, she had heard rumors that the Aoshan Clan had broken their sacred God Duel pact. Those cursed by the Three Gods would be banished to the Endless Cape, never to return to Iron Sand City. Yet Echo knew this was the Iron Whip Clan's scheme—they had smeared underground black oil on their whips, making them impossible to extinguish even with water. This very tactic had caused her brother, the clan's strongest warrior, to be burned alive during the duel, throwing the entire formation into chaos.
Beyond the endless sea, only scorching yellow sand remains, with only the eternal flames and an ocean more frenzied than Mother Earth. Those who journey to this place will soon turn to white bones, meeting a fate even more tragic than their own enslavement.
After awakening as the God Envoy—commonly known as the Witch in the Continent Kingdom—Echo once contemplated vengeance, yet her power was merely a useless sound simulation. No matter how fervently she pleaded with the Three Gods, none granted her will. After six months in Bishui Harbor, she realized the notion of the God Envoy being favored by the Three Gods was nothing but a self-deceptive delusion of the Mojin people. Within the territories of the Four Great Kingdoms, the God Envoy was always a target hunted by the Church. From that day onward, Echo completely abandoned any hope of revenge.
Suddenly, thick smoke billowed up from the distance. She gazed toward the eastern bank of the Chishui River, where embers glowing with a faint green light glimmered through the small woods. The black smoke from the burning trees mingled with the white mist from melting snow, forming a gray column of smoke at the horizon.
That is Anna's Green Flame.
Upon their arrival, Wendy briefly introduced Anna and Nana to her sisters. Echo immediately admired Anna's abilities—the free-flowing flames that could melt swords and blades at such high temperatures... If she had possessed such power in Iron Sand City, not a single member of the Iron Whip Clan would have survived.
Echo shook her head. It was pointless to dwell on these matters now. Compared to her kin who had likely perished in the sands, her survival was a blessing. Since Your Royal Highness had chosen to take her in, her duty was to fulfill every command she issued.
She cleared her throat and began humming the song as requested.
It was a cheerful little tune, and Your Royal Highness could remember the entire melody after just one hum.
Echo was no stranger to music. As a top-tier slave in training, she mastered seductive dances and flirtatious ballads. But Your Highness was a different story... This piece brimmed with rhythmic energy and explosive vitality. When he demanded he play it imitating a flute, every note seemed to pulse with life, making it impossible not to want to dance along.
The real challenge was synchronizing the melody with drum beats and strings. Simulating three overlapping sounds for the echo effect was unprecedented. She never imagined music could be performed this way!
At first, she struggled to keep the drumbeats in sync with the flute's rhythm. Following Your Highness's suggestion, she began using her hands or feet to keep time, gradually blending the two sounds together.
After several days of practice, Echo gradually mastered this method of mimicking sounds.
After a few rehearsals, she stood up and decided to add the final strings to the piece.
As the melody began to play, Echo noticed the minor key had transformed once more. If the cheerful flute notes formed its body and the vigorous drumbeats its bones, then the seemingly decorative strings finally gave the piece its soul. She danced to the rhythm, over and over, until the three instruments merged completely, their voices rising higher and higher, until she could no longer hold back and burst into song—...
"My attack power is higher than yours, so I win." Roland placed the final card on the table, while Soloya across the table covered her face and let out a low, knowing sigh.
"Another round," she mused, gathering the cards back. "This time, I'll pick your ten cards." "Cough, cough," Prince cleared his throat. "It's getting late—I've got work to do. You go find someone else to play with." After assembling a decent deck, the next step was duplication. With the template laid out, Soraya's drawing speed rivaled a printer. Soon, Roland had several identical Quinter cards.
So Soraya became his first opponent.
After explaining the game rules, a card battle commenced. During the confrontation, he discovered the Witch possessed an extraordinary receptiveness. Soraya swiftly mastered the card-playing techniques. In the subsequent rounds, Roland still managed to win, though he had to rely on special card decks. Now, when the opponent requested to draw cards for him, he shamefully refused.
"Alright," Soraya tucked the card into her chest and dashed out the door. Just then, cheerful music drifted from outside. She stopped in her tracks, ran back, and leaned over the window to peer. "Echo?" "Hmm, she's totally mastered it now." Roland leaned back in his chair, savoring the familiar melody.
The First Army of the Border Town is about to enter the integrated exercise phase. Unlike the previous wall shooting drills, this field exercise requires troops to march in perfect formation—essentially the foundation of the firing squad drill. To synchronize the soldiers' steps, drumbeats or shouts are used to coordinate their pace. Now equipped with the Witch, which can simulate mixed sounds, the unit has adopted the British approach by playing the marching band directly.
Beyond its role as a simple drumbeat, the march not only regulates the unit's pace but also effectively boosts morale and energizes the troops. Of course, during the era of mass executions, the most famous march was the' Grenadier March,' which Roland only knew by name but could not recall the full melody.
However, this did not stump him. He composed an adaptation of "The Grenadier March," which became a nationwide anthem during the Anti-Japanese War. Its melody, now widely recognized by all, is none other than the legendary "The Guerrilla Song."
Soloya turned her head and heard Prince humming along to the melody. It was a language she had never heard before—clear and crisp, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the tune.
We are all God's gunmen, each bullet takes out one enemy. We are all the Flying Army, even if the mountains are high and the waters deep. In the dense woods, comrades' camps are set up everywhere. On the high hills, countless good brothers are with us....